


Forgot my roots, now watch me bloom

by CaptainGay



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Shark Attack (The Wilds), Angst with a Happy Ending, But non-fatal hanahaki, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Leah Rilke-centric, Like it's mostly just annoying and painful but not life-threatening, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Leah Rilke, POV Third Person Limited, We don't do the "love me back or I will die" thing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29530797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainGay/pseuds/CaptainGay
Summary: Leah had been coughing up flowers for as long as any of the others could remember. It had started before the island and the other seven hadn't known a time she wasn't pulling petals from her teeth. They thought it might have gone after she burned the book, but the next day it came back with a vengeance. No one said a thing (perhaps they didn't even notice) when the petals changed hues, born from different flowers than the ones sprouting in her chest when she boarded that airplane.ORA non-lethal take on a Hanahaki Leatin fic filled with misunderstandings, fluff, slight plot, Dot being a bro, and happy endings.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke
Comments: 36
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abby (unrulyheartclub)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Abby+%28unrulyheartclub%29).



> Hey y'all. I can't help but keep writing Leatin fics, it's totally not an obsession.
> 
> I don't like the "love me back or I will die" vibe I get from a lot of Hanahaki fics, so I hope yall like my take on the trope.
> 
> Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
> 
> Dedicated to my new friend, Abby! Thank you so much for helping me with this fic, your feedback and input was greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already finished writing this fic, but I love the suspense of posting each chapter individually. Don't worry, I won't wait too long to upload the next chapter, I'm not sadistic.
> 
> I had a wonderful time writing this fic and I am so happy to share it with you all :)

In the months leading up to the island, the months after Jeff had broken up with her, Leah had coughed up enough flower petals to span the globe. It might seem like an exaggeration, but if one asked any of her classmates, they would say they believed it to be possible. No one at school was concerned, though. No one but Ian.

It was a normal thing to see in the world, at a high school even more so. Hanahaki disease. It sounded deadlier than it really was. It was as common as the cold, but was nowhere near as lethal. Kids got it, teens got it, adults got it, the elderly got it. The only real difference between adults and adolescents was that it was easier to hide with more years of experience and more heartbreaks. In school, most kids would cough up petals for a week and be fine the next. The disease passed just as quickly as feelings, fleeting and shallow as they often were at that age. 

That wasn’t to say it wasn’t painful. The phrase “hacking up a lung” never sounded very serious, always sounded a bit silly and gross. But there wasn’t anything else Leah could compare it to. Ian had gotten pneumonia in eighth grade and Leah suddenly felt a whole new level of sympathy for him, even if she was still infuriated with him.

To make matters worse, Ian never left her alone, even when they stopped talking and hanging out. Leah had accused him of sending Jeff her birth certificate, but as the weeks passed and he continuously refused to admit it was him, doubts began to creep into Leah’s mind. She didn’t know for sure it wasn’t someone else. But they had stopped talking, she had blocked him on social media, had been giving him the silent treatment and there was no way in hell she would admit she was wrong. Ian never reached out, but he was always there, failing miserably at pretending he wasn’t keeping an eye on her. It was painfully obvious no matter how much she ignored him that he would still care, and Leah’s resolve was deteriorating.

Then Leah got hit by that car. The coughing fits only got worse. Her parents were concerned. They kept mentioning the cases in which people with Hanahaki disease had died. Leah bit her tongue, didn’t say that the disease had never actually killed anyone. A coughing fit underwater caused people to drown. A coughing fit behind the wheel caused people to crash. It often made cases of cystic fibrosis or lung cancer worse, but it was always the lung diseases that killed people, not Hanahaki. No one had died from Hanahaki itself. But her parents seemed to ignore that fact.

They sent her on a retreat. As if more time and even greater distance away from him could solve her problems. Leah thought, at first, the only thing that could cure her was him. If he took her back, it would all go away. No longer would her lungs burn as she breathed. No longer would it hurt to swallow, to drink water, to eat. No longer would petals force their way out of her body, spilling into her hands, covering every inch of space around her.

A retreat in Hawaii wouldn’t cure her. That was for damn sure.

She was wrong. But she wasn’t entirely right either.

Getting sent on that retreat did put an end to the petals she coughed up for Jeff, but Leah received some things in the exchange. For one, she was stranded on an island with seven other girls. She had watched someone die. There was something horribly wrong with the island. And to top it all off, she couldn’t stop coughing.

* * *

Even on the island, Leah wasn’t the only one with Hanahaki disease.

Occasionally Nora would cough up orange and yellow petals. It didn’t happen very often, which indicated that whatever it was had started fading, or she was at least getting better at restraining it. Leah wanted to ask what it was about or if she knew a way to hold it in, but she didn’t. She hated being asked what caused hers.

Shelby had it too, though it wasn’t noticeable to Leah until after she had accused her of being some sort of spy. No longer believing Shelby was in on _it_ (whatever _it_ was, she had no clue), Leah began to notice the way she would struggle to breathe for a moment, then stand abruptly and walk away. Leah was the last to figure out it was to hide the flowers from the others. She didn’t ask her either.

No one asked. No one asked Nora or Shelby or Leah. No one asked why Shelby had stopped one day out of the blue. But, maybe people were just too busy eating goat and lychees to notice Shelby no longer excused herself throughout the day. Leah paid it no mind. She was too busy worrying about the change in her own petals to worry about the end of someone else's.

Anemone. That was what she used to cough up. The day it started, the day Jeff had broken up with her, she had looked up its meaning. She read the story of Adonis and Aphrodite. It was lovely and sad, a bittersweet tale. The creation of the flower was up to debate. Some claimed it was formed from nectar Aphrodite dropped into Adonis’s blood. Some claimed she wept over his body and the flower was born from her tears and his heart.

Anemone. It was spring breezes and the death of a loved one. It was life and loss, undying love and sickness, anticipation and ill tidings. It was beautiful purple petals and dreadful pain. But that was love, wasn’t it? Misery. The coughing, the labored breathing, the tearing of her airways. That was what love felt like. Wasn’t it?

Then Leah ran into the sea. She ran to an imaginary escape. She almost drowned, in the water and her own mind. She understood now, her parents were right to worry. If it weren’t for Rachel swimming out to save her, she was sure the cough itching its way up her throat would be the end of her.

But she didn’t cough. She was hauled out of the ocean, wrapped up in Fatin’s arms. She was held. Leah couldn’t remember the last time she had been held like that. It was tight, as if Fatin was afraid she would disappear before her eyes, but it didn’t hurt and Leah wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t from how exhausted she was.

Fatin placed two pills in her hand, giving her the power to choose. Leah couldn’t express at that moment how much she appreciated it, being trusted to make her own decisions. Her skin was cold, her body ached, her head pounded, and hunger gnawed at her stomach. But she felt warmth inside. Her heart felt warm for the first time in a long while. She felt safe for the first time in a long while. She could breathe, too. It came out ragged with her tears, but she could breathe and not feel the tickle of a petal in the back of her throat. She took the pills.

* * *

Leah staggered. A tree rushed into her vision and she held out a hand to stop herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again, she saw she was leaning against a tree in the middle of the woods. She knew not how she got there. All she knew was that she was on something. Or she was dreaming. The former seemed more likely.

She pushed off from the tree and continued on. The sound of whispering caught her attention. It was close, but Leah’s head felt like it was in a haze. She couldn’t distinguish the voice. She walked toward the sound, curiosity silencing her confusion as to why she went out there in the first place.

“– she might hurt someone, or herself.”

Leah stepped as silently as she could through the underbrush. The voice was recognizable now, as well as the hair and the outfit. She still felt as if she were wading through a fog, but her mind felt unusually sharp.

“I can’t be here. I can’t –” Nora cut off. Her body shook and she held her hands up to her face, they came away filled with orange petals.

A branch snapped under her feet. Leah froze. Nora spun around and the petals fell to the ground. There were tears in her eyes, the faintest stream of moonlight that broke through the trees made them shimmer as they slid down her face. Every theory that had been running through Leah’s head came to a halt. Nora was in pain, she was coughing up flowers just like Leah was. Why would she volunteer to be stranded on an island? Why would she put her sister through it all? But why was she sneaking off in the dead of night to talk to trees? Something didn’t add up and all fingers were beginning to point to Nora.

“Leah?” Nora’s voice was barely above a whisper. She shook the last of the petals loose from her fingers. Leah watched them float back and forth before coming to a rest on the ground.

“Who’s it about?” The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could think it through. It wasn’t high on her list of things she needed to know. What the fuck was going on with the island was number one. But the earth swayed and she couldn’t keep a thought in her mind for longer than a few moments, so it was as good a question as any to ask.

“Who’s what about?” Leah scoffed. That tone in her voice, she sounded exactly like she had been caught red-handed. At what, Leah wasn’t entirely sure about and it was slipping away from her quickly. She staggered. Nora rushed forward to catch her before she fell.

“You need to sit down, the drugs haven’t worn off yet.” Nora led her away from the tree to a fallen one nearby. She sat Leah down and took a seat next to her. The world didn’t spin so much and Leah found it easier to think.

“The Hanahaki. What caused it?” Leah hoped Nora would think she was too drugged to be suspicious of her. Asking her about things other than the island might put her at ease, perhaps she would slip up and reveal something. It was wishful thinking, but Leah wasn’t sure she could take Nora in her current state. She wasn’t even sure if she should be afraid of Nora.

“I did a prospective student summer session last year at a university I was interested in. I met a boy, Quinn. I, um, broke up with him at the end of the summer. He joined a fraternity, Theta Kappa Theta. They hazed him. He died, trapped in the trunk of a car.”

Leah swallowed, but her throat was dry. Nora pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands, pushed them back up, and pulled them down again. She wasn’t sure what to say. The words died before they reached her mouth.

“They’re marigolds. They mean pain and grief.”

Leah nodded. A silence followed and seemed to stretch on forever. Leah couldn’t tell how much time had actually passed. She was still hazy from the drugs.

“Can I ask about yours?”

Leah felt the sting of an eyebrow being ripped from her skin. She waited for the itch, the choking sensation of the petals as they forced their way into her esophagus. It was inevitable.

“It’s just… I recognized them. I did some research when mine first started.”

Leah pulled harder. Five brown, crescents shaped hairs lie on her fingers.

“They’re anemones. They mean forsaken love, illness, bad luck –”

“I know what they mean,” Leah cut her off. Another clump of hairs on her fingertips. She kept waiting. There was nothing, not yet. But it would happen, it always did.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The skin above her eye felt raw. She sighed. Still nothing.

“Jeff Galanis.” She paused. His name left a bitter taste, but there were no petals. “He wrote that book I brought with me.”

“The one you burned.” There was a sound of realization in her voice that Leah didn’t understand.

“Yeah. He’s like thirty. Totally gross, I know,” she laughed, but it was void of happiness. She felt tears building up. She swallowed, throat no longer dry. There was no resistance, no flowers fighting their way out.

“It wasn’t your fault.” A hand on her knee, warm and gentle. Why would she do it? What was the point of spying on them? Reporting back to some unseen force? Had it something to do with Quinn? Had it something to do with her sister? Why did she sign up for this?

“I know.” For the first time, Leah meant it.

* * *

Leah was greeted to the sight of well-worn New Balances when she awoke. Nora had volunteered (as if that wasn’t suspicious) to look after her. Leah played it off, kept her cool. She couldn’t confront Nora yet, not while they were alone, not before she got more evidence.

The others returned after a while. Nora had retreated up to the bluff, likely to concoct some sort of plan or get her story straight, but returned upon spotting the others. Seeing the goat Dot and Rachel carried was… well Leah didn’t think she had ever felt so relieved. Fatin walked a few paces behind with Martha, a hand on her back and a concerned look on her face. Noticing the blood all over Martha’s shirt, Leah was not surprised at how comforting Fatin was being. It was touching to see Fatin, who usually avoided physical affection (“It's not my thing, I'm more of a giving gifts type of gal.”), going out of her comfort zone to offer solace and consolation in someone’s time of need.

A tickle in the back of her throat. Leah drank water and it was gone. Dot and Rachel set the goat down by the fire. They stood there staring at it for a solid few seconds before Dot asked for the hatchet and sat down to work. Fatin led Martha over to Leah. Martha seemed mentally absent, Leah didn’t blame her. She had not been told what happened, but she pieced it together through context clues.

“How you feelin’?” Fatin crouched down in front of them. Her voice was a whisper, not to be heard across the fire. Leah stared at Dot as she began hacking away at a limb, trying to remove it from the rest of its body.

A hand on her thigh brought Leah’s attention to the girl before her. Fatin’s eyes searched her face, her expression soft. It took a few seconds for it to click. Fatin had been asking _her_ how she was doing, not Martha. She blinked. Fingers gently rubbed back and forth just above her knee. Her skin tingled. There was a scratching in the back of her throat.

Leah cleared her throat before speaking, “I’m fine.”

Fatin gave her a light-hearted disbelieving look. Leah smiled. The scratching grew in intensity.

“Really. I’m exhausted and sore and hungry, but I’m okay.” It was the truth. She wasn’t _good_ and she was still worried about the island, now about Nora, but overall she was okay. She didn’t want a repeat of the previous day, she could say that with certainty.

“Okay,” Fatin said with a small smile of her own. Fingers made smooth patterns over her thigh. Leah swallowed down the building pressure. Now was not the time to cough up petals for _him_. Seeming to have observed Leah enough, Fatin gave her leg a pat and stood up.

“You two need anything, you just holler, okay?” Fatin pointed a finger between Leah and Martha. They both nodded in return. Fatin took one last glance at the two of them before making her way over to the others, grabbing a fresh bottle of water before sitting down.

Conversation did not come easy. Martha was staring intently into the sand. Leah was fighting off the urge to cough. Dot was making a mess, still chopping away at the goat. Fatin, Nora, and Rachel would exchange a handful of words before falling silent. There were a few cheers from the far side of the fire when Dot finally got the leg free. Nora instructed Fatin and Rachel in building a roasting rack with spare wood while Dot skinned the leg. Leah just watched. Martha ignored them.

Leah tried not to stare at Nora, but she needed something to distract herself from the scratching in her throat. She tried to piece together Nora’s involvement in it all, tried to remember if she ever saw her sneaking off and what suspicious thing had happened after she randomly appeared back with the group. It was difficult to focus. She would glance over, trying to observe how Nora was acting, but the girl was somewhat blocked from Leah’s vision by Fatin sitting next to her. She would end up looking at Fatin instead.

Fatin held a water bottle, one of the pink ones from the “swag bags” they found weeks prior, clasped it with both hands, her elbows resting on her knees. Her fingers drummed against the metal, almost rhythmically. Scratching in her throat. Leah looked away.

It happened again, Leah would sneak glances at Nora, but her attention would be drawn to the girl sitting beside her. She looked at Fatin’s face. Her hair was always up in a bun or a ponytail, Leah wondered if she had ever let it down since they ended up on the island. She had a slight sunburn on her forehead, but she still looked perfect. The scratching was climbing up her throat. Leah was about to look away when she noticed Fatin staring at her. Her eyes, deep and brown, intense in the sunlight, were full of worry.

Leah couldn't stop it. She coughed. Immediately she held up her hands to her face to try and hide it. She couldn’t see between her fingers, but she was sure the others were staring at her. It was silent save for the sounds she was making. She collected the petals in her hands and made fists when the fit subsided. She looked up. Dot had gone back to skinning the goat, Rachel stared at the fire. Nora was staring at her own hands, sleeves being pulled down over her knuckles and back up to her wrists over and over again. But Fatin was still looking at her, eyes full of concern. Leah felt another coughing fit starting.

The second one lasted longer. Her throat was sore. She buried the petals under the sand, not wanting to look at them, before reaching for her water bottle. The water wasn’t cold, but it helped ease some of the pain. She set the bottle down and finally caught a glimpse of a petal that hadn’t been fully buried. It was orange. Strange. The anemones she usually coughed up were purple, white, or red. She knew they could come in any color, but she had never seen any but those three.

Leah pulled the petal loose and held it in her palm. It was slightly larger than anemone petals and more oval shaped. It came to a point at the tip, whereas the anemones were more rounded. A new flower. But why? What did it mean?

“Thank fucking Christ. I’m done.” Dot held out the leg, now free of skin and fur. It was pretty revolting to look at. She handed the axe to Rachel, who held it gingerly, not wanting to get blood on her hands. Dot secured the leg to the makeshift spit and returned to the rest of the goat.

It wasn’t long before Toni and Shelby joined them, arms full of lychees and looking to be in far better spirits than the girls around the fire.

* * *

The goat wasn’t great. Not something she would ever eat again once she got off the island. But it was food and it filled her stomach. The lychees were a nice touch. Leah regretted immediately eating the handful she had been given, it would have been nice to have a palette cleanser after she finished with the goat.

They all ate in silence. Martha didn’t even eat. Leah struggled to ignore the odd looks Nora had been giving her. She would feel eyes burning into her skin, but when she looked over, Nora would quickly look away. Nora was getting nervous and it was making Leah anxious. She could barely take it any longer, she needed to know what Nora was doing out in the woods last night. She needed answers, at least one, because she had millions of questions racing through her mind and it was making her antsy.

Leah excused herself from the circle. Of course, Nora was the one to ask if she was alright. She fought the urge to show her hand. She needed proof.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Cameras were her first thought. But the trees she searched had none, just holes. It was something, but it wasn’t solid evidence. She searched another tree. More holes, they looked man-made. Footsteps. Someone was walking through the underbrush towards her. Leah pressed herself into the tree, hiding her body from view.

The footsteps got closer and Leah held her breath. She was sure it was Nora. Either Nora knew she was onto her, or she was going to talk to _them_ again. Leah didn’t know who _they_ were, or how many of them there were, or where they were, but she knew Nora was talking to _someone_ and she desperately needed to find out how and why.

The footsteps stopped. Taking a quiet breath, Leah leaned to peek around the tree. Her mind came to a screeching halt. It wasn’t Nora. It was Fatin. She had just come from a denser part of the forest, from the path to the beach. The grove she stood in was more spacious, with many directions to choose from. Fatin looked around, obviously unsure of where to go.

Leah felt guilty, suddenly. How long had she been out there? She had told the others she just needed to go to the bathroom, but she was likely gone a lot longer than that. They were worried, she knew, after she had tried to drown herself. Walking off into the woods alone and not returning within a few minutes wouldn’t look good. She had been so focused on finding dirt on Nora, she didn’t stop to think about anything else.

“Leah?” Fatin had gone out there to look for her. Leah felt more guilty. She turned around, continued to hide behind the tree. Should she step out, make her presence known? Should she wait for Fatin to keep walking and make it look like she had been somewhere else? Should she wait for Fatin to leave? Leah thought she might turn around soon, she doubted anybody wanted to wander the woods looking for her, she hadn’t really made it easy for the others to care about her.

“Leah you better just be taking a massive shit right now,” Fatin shouted into the trees. Leah was unsure, but she swore she heard a slight waver in her voice behind her joking tone. “If you went and died, I won’t hesitate to bring you back to life just to kill you again for ditching me. Bay area bitches gotta stick together.”

Leah almost stayed where she was, inclined to act like she never heard Fatin calling for her, resigned to wait out however long it took for Fatin to give up her search. Because Fatin would give up, not because Leah still felt like she was lazy, but because she didn’t think she was worth the effort and she definitely didn’t think she had given Fatin any reason to keep looking for her.

“Come on, Leah. I know you’re out there somewhere. I’m worried, okay?”

A tickle started in the back of Leah’s throat. She tried to hold it in. She was failing. A hand came up to try and stifle the cough, but it was no use. Leah didn’t hear the approaching footsteps through the noises she made, hacking up delicate orange petals. The fit subsided and she was finally aware of the person nearby.

“Do I want to know what you were doing back here?” It was teasing, but Leah was sure now it was masking her concern.

“No, probably not,” Leah joked back. She wasn’t sure how to explain that she was looking for hidden cameras that Nora most assuredly knew about. She wiped the flower remains off her hands.

Leah hazarded a glance at Fatin, not sure what she would find in the face looking back. Fatin wasn’t looking at her face, but her feet. She was looking at the petals Leah had just coughed up. Her mouth was twisted into a frown and Leah’s stomach dropped. She knew what was coming next.

“Is that what’s been taking so long? Were you thinking about him?” Fatin sounded like she was walking on eggshells, delicately approaching the topic, not daring to say _his_ name. They hadn’t talked about him since the day Fatin found the waterfall, the day Leah burned the book. Fatin hadn’t brought it up and Leah never felt the need to do so either.

It seemed Fatin wanted to talk about it now, though. Leah could tell. It was in the way Fatin looked at the petals, as if she could make them disappear if she thought hard enough about it. But the thing was, Leah hadn’t been thinking about Jeff. That was what made it all so puzzling. Leah had been coughing up flowers and they were nothing like the ones she associated with Jeff and she was never thinking about him when it happened. She didn’t even cough when she did think about him.

Leah didn’t answer Fatin. She wanted to say no, that she wasn’t thinking about him. That was the truth. But she didn’t know what she would say if Fatin asked what the petals were for. Who they were for. Leah didn’t know. It didn’t really matter though, did it? Finding more evidence that Nora was a spy (it sounded stupid, even in her own head, but Leah didn’t have anything else to call her. Secret agent? Traitor? Those made her sound even crazier.), that was most important.

“You can tell me, you know, if you were thinking about him.”

Leah was unaware she had been staring down at her own feet, at the petals beneath her. She looked up at Fatin. The few feet between them seemed nonexistent and like a thousand miles all at once. Fatin’s hands were clasped together in front of her, hanging loosely by her hips. She looked… shy wasn’t the right word. Fatin wasn’t shy. Reserved seemed more fitting.

“I didn’t come out here to think about him.” It wasn’t a lie, so why did it feel like one? Leah never knew with certainty where she stood on the whole “lying by omission” debate. She was telling the truth, she did not go into the woods to think about Jeff. But was it really lying to not say she was there to find proof there was something insidious about the island?

“Okay…” Fatin didn’t sound convinced. Her forehead creased and her eyes searched Leah’s face. Leah looked away, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Leah,” Fatin sighed. One word. She knew that tone. Leah’s blood rushed in her ears as her heartbeat quickened. She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t fucking crazy.

Leah whipped her head around to look at Fatin. The look on her face must have been intense, as Fatin took a half step back. In an instant, Fatin regained her composure and took a full step forward, closing the distance between them. She reached out and placed a hand on Leah’s upper arm. Her expression shifted, becoming more serious and reassuring. Leah felt the anger leave her body.

“Tell me.” She made it sound so simple. Leah scoffed. The hand squeezed her bicep and Fatin didn’t break eye contact. Her throat tickled.

“You’re not going to believe me.” Leah might have still been a bit bitter from the previous day. She felt like Fatin had heard her, had understood her, but then she had said _that_ (“I’m not one hundred percent certain that you should let a childhood coincidence validate every bad chill you get”) and just like that, Leah felt completely alone, like she could no longer trust Fatin with any of her thoughts or theories.

“Try me.”

Leah bit her lip. Even still, after being stuck on an island together for almost a month and for knowing (she used that term loosely) each other for years, Leah had no idea what to think about Fatin. She didn’t know how to read her expressions, but she had definitely improved over the past two weeks. Fatin appeared to be genuinely interested, genuinely concerned about what Leah thought about the island. She didn’t think Fatin was insincere in her concern, but Leah had a habit of overthinking everything. Fatin could very well just be appeasing her, pretending to want to know her theories, just to keep her from throwing herself into the sea again.

Leah held on tight to the feeling that Fatin cared. She did care. Even if she was lying about caring about her theories, she cared whether Leah died. That was enough. Leah so desperately wanted to be understood, to be believed. But knowing Fatin cared about her? (She thought back to the way Fatin had held her on the beach, clinging to her, rocking her as they cried. She thought of the way Fatin watched her that night as they sat around the fire, Leah slipping in and out of consciousness, not sure why she was putting up a fight to stay awake. “Go to bed, please” she had asked, and Leah was finally compelled to sleep.) Knowing Fatin cared about her was enough to take a risk with the possibility of not being understood.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this chapter, we have officially deviated from canon. No shark attack and no pit. I hope yall like where I take it in terms of plot (though to be honest, there isn't much, it's mainly a focus on Leah and Fatin).

“Okay, I have to admit, it is a bit weird.” Fatin’s fingers grazed gently over a hole in the tree. Her gaze slid back and forth over the expanse of bark before her, counting the number of holes and observing how they were placed.

Leah stood off to the side, nervously picking at her cuticles. She watched Fatin examine the tree. If she was just playing along to placate Leah, she was doing a damn good job at acting interested. Leah kept her mouth shut, not wanting to jinx it. She worried about what to share next, not wanting Fatin to be put-off.

“These holes are a bit too clean to be made by a woodpecker. And it definitely ain’t termites.”

Her heartbeat had increased. This time with excitement. Fatin inspected a few more holes before turning to look over her shoulder at Leah.

“And this is the second tree like this?”

Leah nodded, then said, “there might be more, I haven’t looked anywhere else yet.”

“How did you find this?”

She bit her lip. Fatin took her hand from the tree and turned to face Leah fully. Leah looked away, trying to think of the right wording to say what she saw. She didn’t know what she expected to see when she looked back, but it wasn’t the wide-eyed, soft and open expression she was met with. Leah turned away just in time as a violent coughing fit took over her body.

A warm hand began to rub soothing circles on her back. Leah coughed harder. It was difficult to breathe through all the petals clogging her throat, but she managed somehow. Orange petals, shining slightly from saliva, covered her shoes. Leah hadn’t bothered to try and catch them, hadn’t bothered to try and hide them from Fatin. The only thing she could do was wait it out. It seemed to go on forever. The fit would start to subside, but then Leah would feel Fatin’s hand on her back and she would feel more flowers scraping their way up her throat.

Weakly, Leah pushed Fatin’s arm away. Her lungs burned and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She would not cry. Leah didn’t look at Fatin, knowing whatever dejected or hurt look she wore would only make the tears fall.

It took a few moments for the petals to stop. Then a few more for Leah to catch her breath. She would have killed for some hot tea and honey. Leah wondered if Hanahaki could make one’s throat bleed if they coughed too much. She didn’t want to find out. Leah wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and tried to collect herself as best she could before turning to Fatin. She didn’t, couldn’t, look at Fatin’s face.

“Sorry. Let’s just pretend that never happened. What was your question?” She looked down at Fatin’s feet. When had Fatin gotten so far away? Right, when she pushed her away. Leah bit her lip.

A second passed by with no response from Fatin. Leah hazarded a glance up. It was a mistake. There were so many emotions written all over her face, too many and too deep for Leah to decipher. Her throat itched. She looked back down, at her own feet. Those stupid petals surrounded her, they still clung to her shoes. She kicked them off. They shamed her. She felt weak, emotionally. Why couldn’t she stop coughing?

“I, uh, asked how you found them. The holes.” She heard hesitation in Fatin’s voice. It wasn’t like her. Leah looked up again. Fatin had reigned in her emotions, put on a mask. Though, Leah could still see the concern in her eyes, the confusion. She wondered if Fatin was trying to hide it or if, perhaps, she wanted Leah to see. She pushed the thought aside and recalled the words she had planned to say before.

“I went for a walk last night.” Leah paused. She waited for criticism, to be called stupid for walking off alone into the woods, at night, while on drugs, where she could very easily get lost or hurt.

“While you were high on benzos?” It wasn’t accusatory. Fatin only sounded… worried. There wasn’t even a hint of anger. She could practically feel the flowers blooming in her chest.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I made many good decisions yesterday.” Fatin winced and Leah regretted her words. She pressed on, “I ran into someone, in the woods. They stood right there –” she pointed just behind Fatin, at the tree.

“– and they were talking, out loud, to the tree.” Fatin raised her eyebrows. Leah didn’t let her speak, “before you say I was hallucinating or something, I know what I heard. My name. She said my name. And she sounded like she was talking to someone. I don’t know who. I thought there might be a camera somewhere, in the tree. Why else would she come here in the middle of the night and talk to a tree? So I had to come back, I had to find it. But all I found were these holes. There had to be something there and someone came back to cover it up.”

Leah stopped. She realized she had raised her voice, had spoken faster as more words came out of her mouth. She bit her tongue. Too much. She said too much. She was too much. Faitn just blinked at her, processing the information. She was probably finding a nice way to say that she was fucking crazy. She wasn’t. Leah knew what she saw, what she heard.

“Who was it?”

It was Leah’s turn to blink at Fatin. She had expected push back. Had expected Fatin to shoot down her words, to say they were just talking to themselves, not to a camera. She hadn’t expected Fatin to take it in stride. It swept the rug out from under her feet and Leah was scrambling to stand, to find something to say.

“You believe me?” Leah still waited for the other shoe to drop. She waited for it all to be some big lie, for Fatin to laugh and call her crazy. But she wouldn’t. She cared.

“Well, those holes aren’t normal and last I checked, benzos don’t cause hallucinations. And as creepy as it is to think there's cameras out here, I’ve seen enough reality TV to know it isn’t impossible.”

Leah smiled. Fatin believed her. Well, she hadn’t said so explicitly, but she hadn’t dismissed her. Fatin smiled back. The scratching in her throat started again. She swallowed.

“So, you gonna tell me who it is? Or do I have to guess?” It was light, joking. Fatin almost made it sound like she was talking about Leah’s crush, not some double agent sent to spy on them. The thought of her and Fatin, gossiping like school girls at a slumber party, guessing who the other had a crush on, it made the scratching sensation crawl up her throat, made it more intense. She pushed it down.

“It was Nora.” At hearing the name, Fatin’s eyebrows shot up. She looked off to the side, thinking about something in her head.

“Full of surprises, that one.” Fatin looked back to Leah, smiling slightly as she said her next words, assuring Leah she meant no harm, “it makes more sense than Shelby.”

“Yeah, that was my bad,” she meant it as a joke, but all her jokes were either too dry or fell flat. Fatin seemed to get it, though, from the pleased smile she gave her. Leah struggled not to cough again.

* * *

It took another two days for Leah to figure it out. It took two days and an “experiment” to finally realize why she was coughing up a brand new flower.

After Leah had shown Fatin what she had found, after telling her about Nora (she ended the story at the point where Nora realized she was being watched, Leah wasn’t heartless enough to reveal what she had told her about Quinn. No matter her animosity toward Nora, it wasn’t her place to tell Fatin what Nora had told her, it wasn’t right.), Fatin had started acting differently. No one seemed to notice except Leah, or if they had, they didn’t mention it.

The shift in Fatin’s behavior, it was hard to describe. The changes were subtle, but seemed blaringly obvious to Leah. For one, she seemed more observant. She had always been observant, moreso after that day she found the waterfall, but it was different now. Leah felt like she was finally looking at things – or trying to – the way Leah did. Sometimes she would look over at Fatin and find her analyzing her surroundings or keeping a watchful eye on Nora.

Fatin also seemed to hover, almost. At first she thought Fatin was still worried she would suddenly run into the sea. She tested that theory once when they were all sitting around the fire. Leah stood, not saying where she was going, and started walking towards the water. She didn’t run, not actually intending to get very close. She walked, slowly, waiting to see if anyone came to stop her. They didn’t. She sat, not caring that the sand would make her pants wet (they had all gotten somewhat used to being constantly damp or covered in sand). It wasn’t even a full minute before Fatin sat down beside her. She had said nothing, just sat there with Leah, looking out at the waves.

Fatin didn’t let Leah get too far away. If Leah walked away from the others to sit by herself, Fatin would join her a few moments later. If Leah asked to be left alone, Fatin would go, but would keep Leah within her line of sight, far enough away for privacy, but close enough to be within shouting distance. If Leah walked in the direction of the woods, Fatin would look up. On her face would be a silent question, which Leah was pretty sure meant “do you want me to come with you” (Leah had no idea when they had gotten close enough to read each other’s expressions like that) and Leah would shake her head no if she needed to use the bathroom. Fatin would relax and when Leah came back, she found that Fatin was always watching for her to return.

Leah was coughing more, somehow. She was lucky to last two hours before more petals were spilled. It was suspicious, how she was thinking of Jeff less, but she was coughing more. Fatin would get her a water bottle or sit beside her. She wouldn’t reach out to touch her, likely remembering how Leah had pushed her away the first time. Her presence seemed to make the fits even worse. It sparked a thought in Leah’s head on the second day. She needed to test it.

It was approaching two hours since her last coughing fit. Leah had sat a ways away from the fire. Fatin, as usual, had asked if she wanted company. She said no. To test her theory, she needed to be alone, but she didn’t voice that part.

Once the itching had subsided after Fatin left to rejoin the others, Leah started her little experiment. She thought of Jeff, his smile, how it had felt to kiss him (she almost couldn’t remember anymore). The only thing she felt was bitterness and the faintest twinge of heartache. There was no scratching sensation, no blooming of flowers. She thought of Ian next and felt regret and sorrow. They had left things on a bad note, but now was not the time to dwell.

She thought of Dot and felt appreciation. She made a mental note to thank Dot for trying to keep her from running into the ocean, for taking care of them all, for everything. She thought of Shelby and wondered if she should apologize to her again, she still felt like the one she gave wasn’t a proper one. Leah thought of Toni and Martha and Rachel. Then, she thought of Nora. She wondered if Nora knew what she was doing, really understood the consequences of her actions, of her deception. She also wondered if Nora knew what the new petals meant and she wondered if it was worth it to try and ask.

Leah turned her thoughts to Fatin. Instantly the tickling began, low in her esophagus. Interesting. She closed her eyes and pictured Fatin. She saw her deep brown eyes, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, the curve of her lips. Scratching, clawing its way up her throat. She tried to remember the sound of her laugh, the sight of her smile, the feeling of her arms around her shoulders. Leah was going to cough soon. She was pretty sure what it meant, but she needed to be sure. Leah thought of Fatin and tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss her.

Coughing. That’s all she knew for the next few minutes. Whatever beautiful daydreams her mind could have conjured up about kissing Fatin were shoved aside. The only thing Leah could focus on was expelling the petals from her lungs, taking breaths when she could.

There was a plunk, a slight sloshing sound, and Leah knew Faith had just set a water bottle down next to her. Fatin lingered. Leah let it make her coughing fit worse. It should have been enough proof. Fatin shifted on her feet and then turned to leave. Leah reached out, putting a hand on Fatin’s calf. She didn’t pull on her or grip her very hard, but Fatin stopped walking immediately. She sat down next to Leah. A moment of hesitation, then Fatin’s hand was on her back.

Leah choked. Something was lodged in her throat. She coughed harder, not sure how that was even possible. The petals were annoying and somewhat painful, but whatever this was – a clump of petals? – was making it almost impossible to breathe. A thought passed through her mind that she might need the heimlich maneuver soon if she wasn’t able to cough it up soon. Fatin began rubbing circles on her back, like she had two days prior, and it both helped and made things worse. She coughed more violently, but it helped to dislodge whatever was stuck in her throat.

Leah was finally able to spit it out. It was an entire, intact flower, without the stem. Leah recognized it. It was a tulip. But, she didn’t know what tulips meant, or if the fact that it was orange was significant. She continued to cough. It was getting exhausting.

“Do you need anything?” Fatin’s voice practically dripped with concern.

In between coughs, Leah managed to gasp out, “Dot.”

The hand on her back stilled. Leah tried not to think about it.

“Okay.” Leah also tried not to think about the hurt she swore she heard in Fatin’s voice.

Fatin left to retrieve Dot. Leah wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed that her coughing fit eased slightly once she was alone. Fatin returned moments later with Dot in tow. Leah was tired, barely had any energy to move, but she was able to pat the sand beside her where Fatin had been sitting. Dot took the hint. She was even more awkward than Fatin had been, a hand hovering over Leah’s shoulder, then it flopped ungraciously into the sand between them. Fatin lingered, again. This time, when she walked away, Leah didn’t stop her.

“Ya know, I’m probably one of the last people you want to ask for relationship advice.” Dot’s sense of humor was almost as dry as Leah’s. It gave her a laugh, but in the midst of the coughing, it sounded strangled. Dot must have taken it as a sound of pain (she was in pain, but that was beside the point) because she finally placed a hand on Leah’s shoulder. It was firm and steady and comforting. Much like Fatin, Dot wasn’t big on physical affection. But, her touch was grounding and her presence was calming.

With Dot sitting beside her, Leah quickly recovered from her coughing fit. Dot didn’t remove her hand until Leah turned to grab the water bottle Fatin had left for her. They sat there silently for another few moments as Leah caught her breath.

“Thanks,” Leah managed to say. Her voice was shot.

“No problem,” Dot replied. She waited a beat before speaking again, “if you don’t mind me asking, why did you ask for me?”

Leah took another sip of water, not wanting to answer right away. She debated telling Dot the whole truth. Dot didn’t seem like the type of person to expose someone else’s secrets. But then Leah thought about her conversation with Fatin two days prior, about the possibility of there being cameras on the island, watching them. She was more hesitant now on revealing things she knew or suspected. Then again, they were sitting on a fairly windy beach, too far away from the cliffs and trees to be heard clearly from any hidden cameras or microphones.

There was also a part of her that desperately wanted to tell someone of her recent revelation. Telling Fatin was out of the question. Telling Shelby was also a no-go. She could have told Toni, but she wouldn’t say they were friendly enough for that kind of conversation. Rachel still didn’t seem to like her. Martha was super sweet, but Leah had been a bit crude when she had asked her what love was like. Leah knew Nora could keep a secret and that she already understood what coughing up petals for someone was like, but even thinking about approaching Nora for anything made her anxious.

And then there was Dot. Leah liked Dot. She trusted Dot. She wasn’t sure why she trusted her so much, to be honest. She had way more survival skills than the others. If anyone was a good pick to be a spy on a deserted island, it would be her; she could get a job done and keep everyone alive long enough to extract whatever information she needed. But the way she cared for the others, even when they were being a pain in her ass, it seemed too selfless for Leah to think she was a double agent.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered you thought I was capable enough to help, but I thought you and Fatin were, like, buddies.”

Leah looked over at Dot. Her nose was scrunched up slightly and her eyebrows were knitted together in a confused expression.

“Yeah, that’s kind of why I asked for you.” Leah picked up the flower head. It was a little damp from her saliva, but at that point, Leah couldn’t care less.

“Uh, should I take offense to that?” Leah smiled, she definitely liked Dot’s humor.

“I asked for you because I coughed these up because of her,” as she spoke Leah held the flower up for Dot to see. She looked over at her, hiding part of her face behind her arm that rested on her propped up knee.

“Oh.” Then Dot’s eyebrows rose, understanding dawning on her, “ _oh_.”

“Yeah, kinda hard to stop coughing up flowers when the person you’re coughing them up for is sitting right next to you.” She twirled the flower between her fingers. Tulips were pretty. It was a shame it had hurt like hell to cough it up.

She watched Dot out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze shifted between the flower and Leah’s face and back again. There was something she wanted to ask, Leah could tell.

“Do you know what it means?”

Leah shrugged, then, “I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Why not?” There was only confusion in her voice.

“The last time I coughed up flowers for someone, they didn’t mean anything good.”

They looked out at the waves. It was almost peaceful. If she ignored the soreness of her throat, the sand stuck in her hair, her body odor, and the ever present sensation of dread, it would almost feel like they were on a little vacation.

“But what if they mean something good this time?” It was said in a half-whisper, as if Dot was unsure of the response those words would elicit. With both their faces turned towards the sea and with the slight breeze, Leah almost didn’t hear it. She wondered if it was better if she didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters down, one more to go! Leave a comment if you wanna, I will respond as soon as I see it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post this! Got a bit distracted by studying for a midterm (wish I could just write fics all the time, damn senioritis). Anywho, I hope yall enjoy the finale! :)

Dot’s words haunted her. They resurfaced in her mind whenever the itching began. Her voice rang in Leah’s ears while she coughed up orange petals.

She had been so stupid. Leah should have known herself better. She should have remembered that unanswered questions only ever drove her mad. The worrying and wondering over the meaning behind the flowers only distracted her from the important questions. Leah needed answers about the island and fretting over the significance of orange tulips only got in her way.

_But what if they mean something good this time?_

The words were on a loop in her brain. Leah left her body on autopilot as she completed her daily chore. It was monotonous, dipping clothes into salt water, scrubbing the grime out, rinsing the clothes, then hanging them up to dry. It was easy to let her mind wander as her body moved, needing little input to complete the task.

As should have been predicted, not knowing what the flowers meant was eating away at her. It had been for over a day since her talk with Dot and, if Leah was being honest, it had probably been bugging her since she first noticed the change in the petals.

The only solution Leah could think of would be to talk to Nora. It wasn’t a situation she was looking forward to. They had hardly talked to one another, hardly interacted since that night in the woods. They had never been alone together, either. When they did interact, it was when they were with other people. The other girls were completely oblivious to the tension (except for Fatin, though Leah thought she was doing a pretty good job at acting ignorant around Nora) and they also proved to be a good buffer, unknowingly deterring Leah or Nora from spilling something the others didn’t – or shouldn’t – know.

But Leah needed to talk to Nora. She had recognized the anemones and had remembered what they meant. Nora knew a lot of things about a lot of topics and seeing as there was no way Leah could access the internet, asking Nora if she knew what tulips meant was the only option Leah had. It was that or remain clueless and if there was one thing she hated, it was feeling like she was missing something, feeling completely uneducated and confused about something she so desperately wanted to understand. (Leah hated a lot of things, like gross mouth noises, people who insisted on driving drunk instead of calling an uber, sexism, racism, homophobia, the list went on. But none of that was really an issue being stranded on an island. So, having no idea what was going on about most things in her current situation was pretty infuriating.)

By the time Leah returned to camp with somewhat clean and mostly dry clothes (it was a bit overcast that day and Leah had already sat around for an hour watching the clothes dry, she really just wanted to warm up beside the fire), only Dot and Nora were still around. Toni and Martha were off collecting berries. Shelby and Fatin were replenishing their water supply. Rachel was on firewood duty and was still hanging out around camp when Leah had left to wash their clothes, but had gone to complete her own task sometime before Leah returned.

Leah hung up the clothes on spare logs near camp, the section of the beach closest to the cliffs having the least wind, making it an ideal spot to leave the clothes to dry completely. Once that was done, Leah sat by the fire, facing the cliff to keep an eye out if any articles of clothing tried to make a get away. The other two girls acknowledged her arrival, but had retreated back into their own worlds by the time Leah sat down. Dot absently poked at the fire with a stick, watching the flames lap at the half-charred wood.

Nora scribbled in her notebook. She had “found” it a few days prior up on the bluff where she had “forgotten” it that day after Leah had found her in the woods. Nora hadn’t offered it to Leah to continue her “no strings attached” journaling and it made Leah suspicious. There had to be something written in those pages she didn’t want Leah to see. But, there was a high likelihood she had just torn those pages out when she figured out Leah was onto her. Still, Leah wanted – needed – to get her hands on that notebook. If she was going to get Nora to hand it over willingly, she had to act like nothing was wrong. If worse came to worse, she would steal the notebook, which would be difficult since it practically never left Nora’s side. Mollifying Nora’s suspicions of her would be plan A.

“Hey Nora, can I ask a question?” Leah put all her effort into sounding and looking normal. Inside she was a bundle of anxieties.

Nora’s hand stilled, completely stopping her writing to look up at Leah across the fire. For a split second, Leah thought she saw fear in her eyes, but it was gone just as fast as it had arrived. Nora glanced over at Dot before looking back to Leah, her body relaxing as she likely realized Leah wouldn’t bring up _that night_ with an audience. She nodded.

“I was just wondering if you knew what tulips meant? Like, orange ones?” At that Dot finally looked up. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Leah, but Leah looked away. Her face burned with embarrassment.

“If I am remembering correctly, they mean understanding, appreciation, and truest love.”

Leah definitely couldn’t look at Dot now. She just knew her friend would have some stupid, knowing smirk on her face and she really couldn’t deal with it at that moment. She watched the clothes drying instead.

* * *

Fatin was being quiet. Way too quiet.

She and Leah were on food duty. It had been a week since Shelby and Toni found the lychee tree. The amount of berries still clinging to branches was quickly dwindling. It had also been a month on the island. There were a vast number of reasons for Fatin’s silence, but Leah felt like somehow it was because of her.

They hadn’t gotten in any arguments. The hostility from their first two weeks on the island was completely gone. In fact, for the past week they had been getting along as best as they ever had. Leah had slowly shared all her suspicions of the island with Fatin. Fatin was brutally honest, as usual, but no longer did Leah feel invalidated. At every turn, Fatin reassured her in her belief that something was amiss, but she didn’t sugar coat her doubt in Leah’s more far-fetched theories.

Leah couldn’t pinpoint any interaction which could have led to Fatin’s reticence. The only thing she could think of, the only scenario that made any sense (the one that terrified her), was that Fatin had found out her feelings. She had found out her feelings, didn’t feel the same way, and was trying to figure out how to let her down easy.

It wouldn’t be easy, though. Leah had let herself get attached to Fatin, not that there was any way she could have prevented it if she had tried. Just like the flowers that had sprouted in her chest, her heart had grown roots which extended out, wrapped themselves around Fatin’s finger. Any small movement Fatin made tugged at Leah’s heart. When she drifted away, the roots pulled painfully at her heart. Too far, and Leah feared they might snap. But when she drifted closer, Leah’s heart only grew in size, feeding off the care and understanding Fatin supplied her.

Fatin was drifting now, the cords linking them pulled taut. Leah could only follow, trying to ease the strain on her chest. If Fatin cut her loose, she would fall and she would hit the ground hard. Leah wasn’t prepared.

She plucked another lychee and put it in her bag. If her math was correct, they only had two to three days worth of berries left on the tree. Leah would have been more concerned about that fact if she wasn’t so caught up in her anxieties around Fatin. She could feel something clawing at her throat, but it wasn’t tulips. It was plain, old-fashioned dread. It was the nausea that came with the prediction of heartbreak.

Another lychee. Her bag was getting heavy, it was harder to hold as she balanced herself in the branches. Of course, the others had picked the berries closest to the ground and it fell on her to be the one to climb up and reach the berries the others couldn’t. It was one time she resented her height. She put one last lychee in her bag and pulled the drawstrings closed.

“Heads up,” Leah announced before tossing the bag down to Fatin. The other girl looked up in surprise just in time to bring her hands up to catch the bag that was making a beeline for her face. She put it down beside the other bag filled with berries. Still, she said nothing.

Leah stared down at Fatin. Fatin stared out at the trees. She could either sit and wait for Fatin to say something, let the suspense build, let her anxieties amplify. Or she could rip the band-aid off, face the rejection head-on, take a knife to her own strings, sever the cords.

“Lend me a hand, will you?” Fatin finally looked over at that, a smile plastered on her face. Leah could tell it was forced, she had spent enough time studying her face the past week to notice when she had her _Fatin Jadmani_ face on.

Fatin walked over to the tree and held out her hands. Leah crouched, then got into a sitting position, stuck uncomfortably between two branches. She pushed off and let herself fall into Fatin’s outstretched arms. The second her feet were on the ground, Fatin let go and stepped back. It was like she had been burned. A tug at her heart as Fatin drifted away.

“Fatin, what’s wrong?” With the band-aid ripped off came the petals. They tickled at the back of her throat. She couldn’t cough now.

“What? Nothing. Why would you say there’s something wrong?” That big _Fatin Jadmani_ smile was not fooling her. Leah rolled her eyes and fought to push down the tulips.

“Fatin –” she almost couldn’t get the name out, it caught in her throat and almost brought orange petals with it as she forced it out “– you have barely said a word all day. You like never shut up, so something must be wrong.”

A minuscule falter in her smile, then “there’s nothing wrong.”

Leah couldn’t hold it in any longer. A choked cough and Leah could feel petals in her mouth. She spit them out.

“You’re a terrible liar,” was all she managed to say before her body was racked with coughs. She held herself up with one hand on the tree. Her other hand gripped her thigh, her fingers dug into her flesh. It did little to distract her from the tearing sensation in her throat and the burn in her lungs.

The _Fatin Jadmani_ smile was gone, replaced with a frown filled with worry and eyes brimming with concern. If she weren’t busy coughing up flowers, Leah would have laughed bitterly. Fatin’s expression only made her cough harder. Her hand twitched at her side, rising slightly, then fell back down. Fatin had wanted to reach out. But she didn’t. A familiar and unwelcome sensation began at that realization. A second whole tulip had sprouted in her chest.

_Fuck it_ , Leah thought. She reached out. Fatin’s hand was in hers in an instant. Another hand was on her back, rubbing gentle circles. Leah coughed harder. Fatin tried to pull away, but Leah squeezed her hand. The hand on her back hesitated, then continued.

It took a while for the coughing fit to pass (it lasted much longer with Fatin there than it had whenever Dot was with her). Once it was over, Fatin tried to pull away again. Leah couldn’t take it if they drifted apart. She let Fatin step back, let the hand on her back fall away, but she clung onto the one in her own hand.

“You okay?” Fatin’s tone and gaze were soft. Leah chuckled sourly, cursing internally as it ripped through her already wounded lungs. She winced and watched as it caused Fatin’s brows to knit together.

“Feel like I should be asking you that.” It hurt to speak, but she didn’t care.

“Leah, you just coughed up a whole-ass fucking garden.” She was avoiding the original question.

“Fatin, you’ve been avoiding me all fucking day,” she mimicked Fatin’s tone. Fatin looked out at the trees. They might have held answers, but none they could give were relevant now.

“You and Dorothy seem to be getting along.” Fatin wouldn’t look at her.

Dot? What did Dot have to do with it?

“Yeah… she’s cool?” Leah didn’t know what else to say. The hold on her hand tightened slightly, but Leah was unsure if it was intentional. She tracked the movement of Fatin’s throat as she swallowed. Leah didn’t have a good view of Fatin’s face, but even from the side she could see that the expression Fatin wore was strained.

Fatin coughed, just barely. Leah saw how hard she was fighting it. Her moment of shock allowed Fatin to slip her hand free from her grasp. Fatin turned further away as her whole body shook. She covered her mouth with her hands. Leah knew what for.

It clicked. Fatin’s silence. The flowers. Dot. Fatin must have thought she and Dot were a _thing_. Fatin must have feelings for Dot. They joked about it all the time. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Then why ignore Leah? Ah. Jealousy.

How foolish of Leah to assume no one would notice her and Dot’s newfound closeness. Ever since that first time she had asked for Dot, it had become a habit. Fatin would catch Leah staring, or she would laugh at some stupid joke Leah made, or she would just think about Fatin and the coughing would start. Dot would come over and sit with her, calm her down, get her to breathe. How stupid of Leah to mistake the long looks Fatin gave her afterwards for concern, to ignore the possibility she was just jealous of her and Dot (even though there was nothing to be jealous about).

Leah snapped out of her internal spiraling to notice Fatin had started to breathe normally again. Her back was still turned to her, but her coughing had stopped. Her chest rose and fell steadily, though somewhat shallow.

“I’m sorry.” At hearing Leah speak, Fatin turned around, hands closed around her petals, hiding them from view. On her face was a question, confusion, _why are you sorry?_

“I didn’t know that you –” she couldn’t get the last words out. – _had feelings for Dot._ She tried something else, “there’s _nothing_ going on between me and Dot.”

“But I thought –” Fatin stopped, frowned. The Fatin Jadmani, at a loss for words. If the conversation weren’t so tense, Leah would have teased her about it.

“You thought that because Dot’s been helping me with my coughing fits means we’re, like, a _thing_?” She watched as Fatin glanced down at the orange petals laying at her feet. Fatin looked back up at Leah and nodded. Her expression was indecipherable. Leah was too tired to try and decode it. All her energy was being used holding herself together, not letting herself fall apart over her certainty that her feelings were not reciprocated.

“Yeah, no, we’re just friends. You don’t have to worry about that. Though Dot’s still kinda caught up on Mateo, so…” Leah looked to the ground, kicking petals from her shoes.

Fatin was silent. She could feel the blades closing in on the cords. It was tortuously slow, but she could feel it coming. Fatin was going to cut her free. She guessed she was ready to fall. It couldn’t hurt much worse than the flowers, could it? Leah steeled herself and looked up. Fatin wore an incredulous and slight amused expression, it sent Leah’s mind reeling. There was a faint tickling sensation in the back of her throat.

“You think I have a crush on Dorothy, don’t you?” Fatin smiled, it was dazzlingly bright and her eyes were fond. Leah’s breath caught in her throat.

“You don’t?” Leah managed to croak out.

“Rilke, you’re the smartest person I know, but _come on_.” Fatin rolled her eyes, but her smile gave away the motion’s playful nature.

Leah bit her lip. Her thoughts tripped over each other, her brain struggled to process what Fatin was saying. Fatin seemed to realize Leah had yet to catch on. She opened her fists and revealed a pile of small petals. Their color was a mix between pink and purple, their shape vaguely like a heart or perhaps a butterfly with outstretched wings.

“These are for you,” Fatin spoke in a whisper, as if saying the words any louder would cause them to break. Perhaps they would, they were as fragile as the petals in the palm of her hand.

“Me?” Leah responded in an equally hushed tone. She struggled to breathe, but it wasn’t from tulips. She felt the blades retreat. She followed the chords, noticed how they began at her heart and led her to Fatin. The didn’t end at a fingertip, but sunk into her chest. The roots did not wind around Fatin’s heart, they grew from it. Connected, not smothered, not trapped.

“I haven’t got a clue what they mean, but they’re pretty, don’t you think?” Leah hesitated a glance up, but Fatin was already looking at her. Was she really talking about the flowers?

“Yeah –” her eyes flicked down to Fatin’s lips and back up again “– pretty.”

Fatin’s smile widened and Leah’s eyes followed the movement. She was aware of Fatin dropping the flowers and wiping her hands on her pants, but she was too focused on the way brown eyes trailed over her face, lingering on her lips.

“Leah Rilke,” Fatin paused and took a step forward. Leah’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. Fatin continued, “can I kiss you?”

Leah let out a barely audible “please.”

Fatin tsked and something mischievous glinted in her eyes.

“So eager,” she teased as her hands reached up to cup Leah’s face.

“Shut up,” Leah attempted at sounding annoyed. The laugh she received told her it wasn’t convincing.

A thumb grazed across her cheek and Leah melted into the touch, wrapping her hands into the bottom of Fatin’s shirt. Fatin stood there, smiling sweetly at her and it made her heart swell. But she was growing impatient. She pulled on her shirt and sought out Fatin’s lips with her own. Fatin smiled into her mouth before _finally_ kissing her back.

Her fingers freed themselves from Fatin’s shirt. Leah wound her arms around Fatin’s waist, pulling her closer. A moan slipped from Fatin’s mouth. Leah chose to tease her about it later. The hands on her face slid to the back of her head, fingers tangled into her hair.

Leah wasn’t sure how long they were making-out. A couple of times they had to break apart to breathe. But at some point they began to slow, trading small and tender kisses in between smiles. They stood there a few moments longer after the kissing stopped, foreheads touching, just breathing each other in.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” Fatin’s hand had found its way back to Leah’s face. Her thumb brushed gently back and forth across her cheek. Leah hummed, prompting Fatin to continue, “your flowers changed.”

“That’s not a question,” Leah said with a smile. Her eyes were still closed and she was fairly certain Fatin’s were, too. But she was sure Fatin was smiling as well.

“You’re right, they did change.” Leah sighed. She didn’t really want to think of the petals from before. The petals because of _him_.

Cool air hit her face as Fatin pulled back. The hand stayed on her cheek. She opened her eyes to the sight of a delicate and empathetic smile.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I was just curious.” _Understanding, appreciation, and truest love._ The flowers had been right. Leah felt understood, she felt appreciated. It might have been too soon to use the word love, but without a doubt, it felt true. It was more real, more genuine, more satisfying, more divine than anything before.

“Who knew beneath that bad-ass, ‘couldn’t give a fuck’ exterior, you’re just a big softie.”

Fatin gasped dramatically. Her hand left Leah’s face and covered her heart as she looked up at Leah with a faux-offended expression.

“You breathe a word to anyone and I will kill you.” The corners of Fatin’s mouth twitched, threatening to break into a smile. Leah laughed and pulled her closer. Fatin’s hands came to rest on her collarbones.

“Sure you will,” Leah said as she leaned down to capture Fatin’s lips.

* * *

They returned to camp just in time for dinner. The fragrance of cooking fish was the first thing to alert Leah to their late arrival. They had been in the woods over two hours longer than they had originally planned. She felt like she was doing a walk of shame even though she and Fatin had only made-out. But when they finally joined the others around the fire, Leah felt her cheeks turn red as everyone stared at them. She handed over her bag of lychees and avoided Dot’s gaze.

Leah took a seat between Martha and Dot. If she sat across from Dot, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to ignore her for very long. Sitting beside her was a risk, too. She could practically feel her friend buzzing with mischievous excitement. Dot was going to tease her and Leah only hoped she would do her the favor of waiting until they were alone. She was afraid she would die of embarrassment otherwise.

Fatin plopped herself down right next to Leah, cutting off her view of Dot. Fatin was so close, she was almost sitting in her lap. From their shoulders, to their hips, and down to their knees, their sides were pressed together. Leah’s heart skipped a beat. Fatin “I’m not big on physical affection” Jadmani was nearly cuddling her. Before she could comment, a bottle of water was being pressed into her hands.

“Drink up, you need to keep yourself hydrated after today,” Fatin said with a wink. Her cheeks felt warm and not from the fire.

“Fucking finally.” Dot said it under her breath but Leah could still hear it from where she sat.

“Do you have something to say, Dorothy?” Fatin turned to face the girl beside her. The two friends engaged in a friendly face-off, staring at each other with upturned eyebrows, while Leah watched from the sidelines.

“I’m just glad y’all finally sucked it up and talked. Don’t think I could’ve survived much more of you two pining over each other.” Leah laughed at the challenging look on Dot’s face, glad the teasing wasn’t aimed at her.

“Dorothy Campbell, I do not _pine_.” Leah laughed harder, Fatin almost sounded like she believed her words.

“I know what I saw,” Dot shot back.

“Then I think you need to get your eyes checked, fuckface.” Fatin said the last word sweetly, as if she were calling Dot a pet-name like baby or honey or sweetheart.

Martha passed a bag of lychees to Leah, it had been going around the circle slowly. She took her share and listened as Fatin and Dot bickered, then set aside some berries for Fatin as well. She passed the bag on. Fatin laughed at something Dot said and Leah could feel the reverberations in her own body. A hand landed on her thigh. Leah looked over at Fatin, but she was still talking animatedly with Dot. If she was aware of her hand placement, she didn’t reveal it.

Feeling bold, Leah placed her hand over Fatin’s. It flipped over and Fatin threaded their fingers together. She smiled, staring down at their hands. _Truest love_. Yeah, that felt right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall liked the ending!! I appreciate all your comments and kudos (and if you just read it, that's awesome too) <3
> 
> (P.S. I may or may not have plans to write a complimentary piece - sequel you might say - from Fatin's POV. Would love to know if that's of any interest to yall. Wouldn't come for another two weeks or so, though.)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris by Hayley Williams.
> 
> I love you all, thank you for reading <3
> 
> You're welcome to come chat with me about Leatin on tumblr @i-can-see-queerly-now :)


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